


And I Shouldn't Stay Long (You might be home soon)

by universeofyou



Series: The Moving In Series [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fic, Fluff, M/M, Smut, larry - Freeform, mix, moving in series, ziall, ziall smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/universeofyou/pseuds/universeofyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall likes the Really Fit Bloke that sits in front of him in his Creative Writing class and it's starting to get distracting. </p><p>Zayn stays concealed in the shadows.</p><p>(Also Known As: Niall makes a complete fool of himself by not knowing what Zayn looks like and Liam and Niall go on runs way too often. Niall also gets kicked out of his frat.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Jesus christ, his face," Niall groans, bending over to stretch and purposefully exposing his bum in the general direction of Harry and Zayn's window. "His fucking abs, Liam. He has ABS."
> 
> "Hey," Liam says, mock offended. "I have abs, you dick."
> 
> "Is Niall being as rediculous as Zayn is right now?" Louis shouts to Liam from the open window in Harry's flat. "This is getting unbearable."

 Niall is walking, box heavy in his arms and sunlight almost blinding as he looks up at Liam’s flat. It's pretty nice, although under kept—as to be expected for a cheap apartment building rented out to UNI students—but it didn’t really look _that_ bad. Sure, there are unruly vines crawling up its brick walls carelessly, and maybe one whole section of the building is faded, but at least it isn't roach infested or anything.

He should probably get around to asking Liam if the building is roach infested or not.

Niall halts, staring at the dark pavement in front of him as he frowns. It is kind of out of character for him for him to show his emotions so openly. Even if he is inwardly upset, he still wears the same blinding smile on the outside. His parents raised him to be utterly and completely optimistic. It doesn't mean he _always_  is, but he tries to be as positive as he can in every situation.

His sudden burst of sadness isn't really due to the fact that he is moving in with Liam, or even the fact that he got kicked out of his fraternity—not that he isn't mad about getting kicked out because he is absolutely _furious;_ it is the ungodly hour and unbearable heat that twists his knickers so far up his arse that he doesn't even care that it's sunny outside, which is a rarity in England.

Maybe his thoughts are like cluttered conversations, like run-on sentences. Okay, and maybe it is mostly the fact that he was kicked out of his fraternity because he didn't even think that they were serious about the rules. The C's he had received on his exams in two of his major classes were apparently not good enough for the headmasters. 

What the _fuck_? How were those grades even possible?

Ed and Harry, two of his best friends, are in his music class and there is this _really_ fit bloke that sits right in front of him in creative writing. And Niall has always liked girls, he just discovered one day that kissing boys and kissing girls is essentially the same--which proves how un-straight he is.

But there is this mysterious aurora that surrounded the boy in his writing class. He carries the mystery around with him, mixing in with his Gucci cologne and becoming as prominent as his sharp jawline.

Niall tries to tell himself to no avail that his crush is an envious, "I-wish-I-was-you" thing, because Niall didn't like every hot guy he came in contact with.

But, one day, the boy shows up at one of his fraternity's--his _ex_ -fraternity's--parties with some of his friends. He has a joint placed between his lips and he inhales deeply, closing his eyes softly as he does so. Even in the dark, drunken haze, Niall can tell it is definitely a crush.

He finally understands why girls act the way they do around attractive guys. He still hasn't gotten a good look at Mysterious Boy as he is quiet and keeps to himself.  

But Niall still focuses on his course work nonetheless.

Mostly.

Sometimes.

_Kind of._

Not really.

Having a social life and holding the title of beer pong champion for three consecutive years has never  affected his work quality that much until recently. Not much has changed now, except for the fact that he may not have written one of the only assignments due in his creative writing class because he has a horrible hangover the day before it was due; he also may have completely massacred his music test on Bach and all that classical shit he can't be arsed to care about.

Honestly, he should be kissing the ground his professors walk on, but, instead, he decides to get drunk and kiss people at parties. _  
_

But never would he ever admit that to himself—either of those things, really.

Niall took stubborn to a-whole-nother level to be completely honest.

On one occasion, he ate an entire bag of family-sized Doritos at a friend’s party just to prove that he could; he drinks enough vodka to throw three people on their arses beforehand, so that doesn't end so well.

And yeah.

He gets so angry thinking about his current situation, he doesn't realize he is just standing in the middle of the car park.

It isn't long before Liam startles him out of his stupor by clapping him on the back gently. A box probably twice Niall’s body weight is nestled under Liam's arm like it is filled with air instead of every episode of _Friends_ , 4 heavy text books, and a DVD player.

“You okay there, mate?” Liam’s eyebrows furrow with concern.

Niall nods, squinting at the sun as he repositions the box in his hands and starts walking once more.

“Hey,” Liam mumbles, touching Niall’s arm lightly. Liam is always so gentle with Niall, as if he sees the fragile side of him that is hidden behind all of the layers of confidence and boisterous laughter.

Niall looks up, waiting for Liam to change the subject into something about the girl he’s been fucking— _making love to_ —for the past month but he doesn't. He simply smiles and continues walking.

Niall doesn't understand how it is possible for someone as good-natured as Liam to exist on this planet—much less be his best friend. Sure, Liam has his flaws, and lately he hasn't always been as sensible as he once was, but he is surely better than anyone else Niall has ever know.

And Niall doesn't know what he would have done if Liam wasn’t a massive softie and didn’t instinctively offer Niall a roof over his head. For one thing, without Liam he’d still be out on the curb in front of his frat house, probably on the phone trying to talk his friend Amy into sleeping with every guy in the house to get his room back. But Liam swooped in and saved his damsel in distress and continued to be the selfless, puppy-dog-eyed man that he was.

Niall didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment. He was there the first time Liam got smashed and provided Liam with weed on several occasions—and also hooked him up with _numerous_ girls—but he should be punished by the universe for corrupting him, not rewarded.

Liam is the most loyal friend he’s ever had in his entire life. He is always the first to offer up his floorboard and expensive leather upholstery to be the victim of a drunk Niall’s up-chucking at 3 in the morning, always the first to come over with beers after Niall has a bad day, always the first to pick up the pieces when Niall's heart is broken. 

They have only known each other since the first day of their calculus class and had gotten along straight away. Now, after almost three years, a fraternity or two, numerous girlfriends—and boyfriends—and a few _minor_ fights, they are practically sewn together by their big toes. And when Niall called Liam telling him about how he was literally kicked to the curb by his fraternity, Liam offered up the tiny spare room in his flat before Niall had time to process the fact that he had, in fact, been kicked out of his frat.

As if that wasn’t enough, Liam also helped Niall pack and offered up his car—once again—to help transport Niall’s possessions. Niall wasn’t anywhere near happy about moving, but Liam made the whole process a hell of a lot easier—what, with his burly build and colossal heart and all.

“Hold on, I’ll unlock the door,” Liam says, snapping Niall out of his thoughts as Liam jogs up to the door and types in the passcode that allows them into the building.

Upon ascending the stairs, they run into a boy that is too preoccupied with his phone to notice them--typical college boy. He has wispy brown hair lying flat under his beanie and a pair of worn black vans on his feet. Niall knows the majority of the students at the university from being in one of the most popular frats on campus, but he has never seen this boy before.

 “Hey mate,” Liam beams, eyes crinkling. “What’s happening?”

Well, Liam knows him.

“Just going to buy my moody boyfriend some tea on this gloriously wonderful morning, what about you, Liam?” the boy replies, his cobalt eyes moving to look at Niall. And of course, naturally that is what tends to happen.

“Just helping my friend Niall, here, move into my apartment. Got kicked out of his frat,” Liam inserts Niall’s name casually, so he doesn't have to introduce himself, and glances over at Niall.

“Oh. Sorry, mate,” the boy reaches out his hand only to awkwardly retract it after realising Niall’s hands aren't free. “You must be Harry’s friend. He talks about you too much. I’m Louis, by the way.”

Niall thinks back to all the times Harry has mentioned the name “Louis” and “boyfriend” in the same sentence and grins. “So you’re the bastard that Harry’s arse-over-tits for.”

Louis laughs abruptly. “Unless he’s in love with someone else, then that’d be me.”

Niall chuckles, shifting his weight along with the box in his hands. “Listen, I’d love to chat but I’ve got a box filled with important shit in my hands that I’m very close to dropping, so, I’ll see you around?”

“Actually,” Louis smiles, “I’m sure Harry and I could give you lads a hand. Then we could all go out for tea together if you’re up for it.”

“Harry wouldn’t mind?” Liam questions, looking slightly uneasy for a reason Niall would never understand. Harry loves everyone on this planet.

“I swear, sometimes he loves Niall more than me, so, no I’m positive that he won’t,” Louis turns to walk up the stairs. “I’ll just go and get him.”

“Alright, Lou, we’ll just drop these off at my flat and meet you outside in the car park,” Liam says, gesturing to the box in his hands and walking up after Louis.

“Sounds good mate,” Louis replies, distractedly typing something in on his phone.

(~+~)

They end up helping Niall unpack and get settled as well—cough, Harry’s idea, cough. They decide that they are all knackered and a large pepperoni pizza would suffice. The tea would be for another time.

They are all sitting in Liam’s living room/kitchen talking while a footie match plays on the television.

Niall likes Louis, even though he has a minor attitude problem, is  _slightly_ conceded, and has little self-control; Niall means this in the best way possible of course. Louis has amazingly dry humor and he can't help but to laugh at all of his jokes.

“I got my degree last year and have been in town performing at the arts center ever since,” Louis explains, taking a swig of his beer and untucking his feet from under him on the couch and swinging them over so they touch the floor. “Have my own studio within walking distance of the place. It’s really shitty. That’s why I’m always at Zayn and Harry’s.”

Harry moves so he is in sitting on the floor in between Louis’ legs. And of course they are so sickeningly cute that Niall wants to excuse himself to barf in the nearest toilet. After stumbling upon that realization, he bumps into another. He doesn't think Harry has ever mentioned that he has a roommate. If Harry were to have one, Niall’s guess would be that it is Louis. But _Zayn_? Who is  _Zayn?_

“ _Zayn_?” Niall questions. “I didn’t know Harry had a roommate...?”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Harry?” Louis asks incredulously, looking down at Harry, who is still sitting on the floor between his spread legs. (Find Niall a spoon so he can proceed to gag himself with it.) “You talk to Niall every day in class and you never mentioned the fact that you had a roommate?”

Harry shakes his head, bending down to shake his hair out in the process.

"Never even came up in conversation?" Louis asks, all criticizing eyes and disbelieving expressions.

“Always too busy talking about you, love,” Harry replies smoothly, placing a kiss on Louis’ temple followed by a lazy sip of beer. (Harry wasn’t being a kiss-arse, though—ew, mental image! Get it out!—Harry really _did_ talk about Louis at least 95% of the time.) “He’s only started living with us this year. Only been a few months or so.”

“I mean, he may have mentioned it offhandedly, but I don’t remember anything,” Niall’s brows furrow. “Why didn’t he help?” Now that he thought about it, it sounded like a rude question to ask, but he was only asking because he wanted to meet him. His interest is peaked.

“I hate to break it to you, young Niall,” Louis says, mock wincing, “but not everyone is eager to help someone they’ve never met move free of charge…”

“So you asked him and he said that he wouldn’t?” Niall asks, standing up to stretch out his limbs and fetch another beer from the fridge. “Anyone want one?”

Everyone shakes their head when he offers to grab everyone another one but Liam. He probably just doesn't want Niall to seem like an alcoholic—which, he isn't by the way! He absolutely is  _not_ an alcoholic. Niall just enjoys the taste of beer. And besides, he was in a _frat_ for fucks sake! What did they expect? (Also Niall was drinking all of  _Liam's_ beer. Oh well.) 

“And, no, not in so many words,” Louis says, smirking. “He has this rule—well, multiple—but one of them is that on days that he doesn’t have morning classes, if anyone bothers him, he’ll murder them. Didn’t really want to be a victim.”

Niall shrugs. “I’ll meet him eventually, then.”

The conversation blends into something involving a ski trip Harry and Ed went on and how mad Louis was about it.

And that was the end of that conversation.

For the time being at least.

 

(~+~)

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Niall wakes up the next morning, the sun is too bright and he has a crick in his neck. He has a headache from hell and is _not_ a morning person, so the day is bound to be not-so-great. The previous night was his first night at Liam's. It was full of tossing and turning and unsuccessful attempts to get comfortable, and he had barely gotten two hours in before the shadeless window prevented any more sleep; blinding sunlight seeped into eyes even though they were screwed closed. He was used to a pitch black room, so curtains were going to have to be bought in place of food for the next few weeks.

His sleepless night had less to do with the fact that the sun exists and more to do with the fact that he still really wants some sort of indication that Liam doesn't mind his presence. He isn't really sure why he doubts  Liam's claims of wanting him there, but he feels more like a burden than a "temporary guest," as Liam called it.

Niall is stretching his back when Liam knocks on the door with two cups of tea and a proposition.

"So..." Liam says casually as he plops down in Niall's worn yet comfortable desk chair, handing Niall his cup of tea. "How would you feel about going on a run?"

Honestly, Niall would rather fall straight to hell than go for a bloody run, but he nods anyways. "Yeah, sure. What for, though?"

"Well," Liam smirks, his cheeks tinting slightly, "you know that girl that I met at that party last week?"--Niall nods even though there are multiple girls that fit the very brief description he offered--"I found out where she lives--not in a creepy way or anything, like, I didn't stalk her or anything--but if we take the on-campus trail, it runs right by her house."

"Okay," Niall shrugs, standing up with a yawn. "Make me some toast and I'm yours for the day."

Liam rolls his eyes but gets up and walks into the kitchen nonetheless. Niall is pretty sure Liam could use his company.

(~+~)

The sun is bright and the arm holes in Liam's cutoff are so large that it could pass for a smock. Niall is glad Liam invited him on a run with him, even though it was because it would make Liam seem less clingy when he casually showed up at the mystery girl's sorority. 

He's been here before, so he knows that they're  _right_ down the street from his old fraternity. Niall kind of cussed some people out and is a tiny bit ashamed to show his face, so it's like he's on pins and needles. He practically breaks his back trying to avoid anyone of the male gender and some of the girls notice and snicker at his expense. 

He ends up inside the girl's house with Liam. The house looks really familiar, but Niall's too worried about someone from his old fraternity seeing him that he doesn't really think about who he knows that lives there. He ends up talking to a really talented girl that he knows from music class.

They talk about class first, and Niall's pretty engaged until his eyes find Liam. She says something about how great Harry is and how she wishes he wasn't gay sometimes and Niall isn't listening.

It's not really _her_ fault but she's kind of boring. (She really isn't boring at all and in regular circumstances, Niall would have loved to have had a chat with her. The thing that really gets Niall's attention is the fact that Amy is there and Liam is talking to her.)

"I don't mean to be intrusive, but what the bloody _fuck_ are you starring at?" the girl--he thinks her name's Lily--asks, breaking Niall out of his confusion-induced trance.

"Can you excuse me for a second?" Niall says in form of an answer and leaves before she has a chance to reply. 

He keeps on walking, the furrow in his brow increasing the closer he gets until he's literally  _right_ beside the two of them. He doesn't say anything, just sips on the drink he somehow ended up with.

"Niall, hey mate," Liam says, a small smile on his face. "This is Amy."

Niall's nod is sarcastic somehow. "Nice to meet you."

Amy's face falls a little, then her glamorous teeth are on display. "Niall, hon! You know Liam?"

"Yep," is all Niall can say, choosing to gulp down the remainder of his drink instead of talking.

"So you're 'The Amy'?" Liam asks, his smile now mirroring Amy's and how the  _fuck_ is he so fucking oblivious to  _everything_.

"And you're 'The Liam'?" Amy says, giggling and blushing like mad. 

"And you're 'The Girl' Liam came to impress," and once it's out of his mouth, he can't believe he said it. Liam gave him a roof over his head and now Niall's gone and been a dick.

Liam flushes, and whoops she wasn't supposed to know how fixated Liam was with her. Thankfully, though, he doesn't look mad.

 _Maybe Amy will stop talking to Liam because he's too clingy_ , Niall thinks selfishly, wishing there was more drink in his cup to gulp down and that it had some form of alcohol in it.

To Niall's surprise, Amy blushes into her cup. "Would you like 'The Girl' to give you her number?"

And fuck Niall's life.

Him and Amy have known each other for years. They've tried the whole "dating" thing but they were just better friends; Niall agreed. And it wasn't really the fact that Amy liked Liam and didn't like Niall at all; his anger results more from the fact that they like each other and they're Niall's best friends. Naturally, if things work out, Liam and Amy will be stuck up each other's arses and won't ever want to hang out with him. If things don't work out, then he'd have two friends that hate each other. And Niall  _really_  couldn't see anything positive coming out of this situation.

They're too enraptured in each other to notice that Niall walks off.

(~+~)

When Liam comes home, it's almost dark and he talks about how wonderful Amy is. "How did you guys meet back in Ireland?" and "Her eyes are gorgeous" and "Oh, by the way, where'd you go?" 

And Niall's predictions were correct.

(~+~)

The next few days are pretty uneventful. Niall doesn't have any lectures for a few days, but Liam does. When Liam's not studying or working out, he's texting Amy.

Niall feels awkward in Liam's house without him there. He spends far too long sitting on Liam's couch with his legs in uncomfortable positions; he doesn't want to rest his feet on the coffee table because it's _Liam's_. He won't touch anything in _Liam's_ fridge because he didn't buy it--even though he's practically dying of starvation all day.

Of course _Liam_ said _make yourself at home, mate_ but he just can't.

It hasn't been long enough for Niall to even consider Liam's space his own. It smells like Liam and new carpet and vaguely of cigarette smoke and weed--not that Niall's frat house  _didn't_ smell like cigarette smoke and weed. Mostly, it doesn't smell like Niall at all.

He hasn't been able to sleep a wink in the past few days. The twin bed in Liam's spare room is too lumpy, the room is too unfamiliar, and he is so lonely. He feels so segregated; his room is more than a few meters from Liam's and it makes him feel slightly uncomfortable. In the frat house, everyone's room was so close and no one's door was ever closed--unless they had company--and they hardly ever slept in their room anyways. There was a party every Friday and Saturday night. On the days when there weren't any parties, Niall and all his mates ended up smoking weed and playing FIFA in the living room. Most days, they passed out right there in various positions on the floor.

This is _so_ much different. Niall doesn't like being alone at all.

Liam always went to bed before midnight and Niall would say he was tired too so Liam wouldn't feel forced to stay up with him. But after Liam went to bed, Niall would just lay in his bed staring at the ceiling until almost dawn, which was when he normally fell asleep.

His circadian rhythm was all fucked up, only worsened by the sparse hours of sleep he actually got. It's going to take more than a few days to correct it, he knows that, but not knowing when he'll  _finally_ be able to sleep gives him an unsettling feeling in his chest.

 _Probably just anxiety_ , says Liam.

 _I'm sure you'e alright_ , says Harry. 

(~+~)

On his fourth night in his new room, he opens his window to get some fresh air. He's having a particularly bad spell of " _anxiety"_   and his room is much too stuffy.

He carefully lifts up the screen and sits on the ledge, resting one arm on his bent knee and letting the other support himself so he doesn't fall four stories to his death.

He makes sure to fill his lungs up to maximum capacity. When the knot in his chest is loosening up, he hears soft music playing. He finds out, after looking up at the open and illuminated window, that the source is the room above his own.

It's really nice. Whoever's playing has an excellent taste in music, and Niall closes his eyes and enjoys the fresh air as he listens.

After a while, he hops down and back onto the carpeted floor of Liam's-- _his_ \--room, leaving the window open. 

It's the first night he sleeps.

(~+~)

It sort of becomes a ritual of his. When Liam is tired and he isn't, he goes into his room with his evening cup of Irish tea and opens the window. He sits on his bed with his laptop until he hears the music. Then, he lays down and closes his eyes, lets the music fill his brain with beautiful white noise. He loves the way he can almost feel the bass thrumming through his veins if he concentrates hard enough.

(~+~)

Harry and Louis come over to Liam _and_ Niall's flat on Saturday night, and they play Monopoly until it gets boring. Liam has an entire section of the board filled with houses and Harry has so much money that nobody can afford to pay Liam's fines with what they have.

Niall expects Louis to make snarky comments like he did at the beginning of the week when they first met, but he barely says anything.

Harry, Niall, and Liam talk about their classes--and Amy. 

Every time Harry and Louis show up for a beer over the next two weeks, both of them are extremely tense. Liam asks Niall if he knows what's up with them and he doesn't know.

It is starting to feel more and more like Niall's house as the third week rolls around--especially because of the rent he has been helping with and the groceries he is buying. He continues to listen to the stranger's music every night and gets more used to the lumpy mattress he has to sleep on. Maybe it's not so bad.

On the Sunday night before Niall's Monday course, Harry comes over because Liam is out doing something that is probably really safe and very responsible with Amy.

Niall and Harry have spent most of the night silently sipping on their beers and watching a footie match on TV. Harry doesn't talk, offers up little information to explain his mood. His mouth is set in a harsh line and there is a crease between his eyebrows as if he is thinking about something with immense concentration.

"I just don't know what to do about Lou, honestly," Harry finally says as if replying to the question Niall had asked an hour and a half ago. He's still staring at the TV, unwilling to move his eyes over to meet Niall's.

Niall looks over at Harry, stretching his arms over his head and setting his beer on the table in one fluid motion. The match is almost over, the winner already clear, so he puts the TV on mute.

"I mean, he's been really tense and jumpy, and we've been arguing a lot. And like--he won't tell me why? And I've tried to ask him. I've tried so hard to get him to tell me, and I've been as nice as I _can_ be. Like, yesterday, he looked really stressed--he just slammed his laptop shut and put his head in his hands--so, I walked up to him and put my hands on his shoulders and started messaging them. And I do that all the time, and he just loves it and... He just stood up," Harry pauses, lip quivering, finally glancing in Niall's direction, "he just stood up and he just fucking  _left_. He hasn't even answered my fucking  _texts_. And I haven't seen him since then--"

"C'mere, mate," Niall opens up his arms and Harry quickly falls into them, resting his forehead on Niall's shoulder.

He is awkwardly cramped up against Niall's chest because let's be honest, Harry is fucking ridiculously tall. Niall is being squished by the over-sized limbs of a giant, and it is a testament to their friendship that he didn't say anything about it.

"Maybe he's stressed about work," Niall suggests, trying to subtly get Harry to sit up and stop suffocating him with his curls.

"I guess, but I know he's been really stressed before," Harry sniffles slightly, "and we normally just have really rough sex and then he tells me what's wrong." 

Niall chuckles softly at Harry's openness, causing Harry to lift his head up and move over some. "So, you haven't been having really rough sex, then, I'm guessing?"

Harry smiles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Louis normally pursues me. I just can't imagine what's wrong. We've been friends since my Freshman year and he  _knows_ he can tell me anything."

"Maybe he's going through menopause," Niall offers with a smirk and Harry's laughing and telling Niall how much he loves him. 

And Niall feels important.

(~+~)

The next morning he's sitting through his creative writing class and staring at the Really Fit Bloke who sits in front of him, retaining little of what his professor is saying. 

He's just noticing that they the Really Fit Bloke and Louis have the same jumper when the boy starts humming. He's trying to think of the song for the remainder of the class and only remembers the title when he gets home and the guy upstairs is playing it.

 (~+~)

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"Can you please come with me?" Liam pleads, looking like he is about to get on his knees.

"I'm not sure if I can show my face around there," Niall answers, and fuck Niall's life because Liam's got his puppy-dog eyes on.

Liam gets on his knees in front of Niall. "Please, please, come with me. Amy really wants to see you and-"

"So I can third wheel again?" Niall spits almost venomously and immediately regrets it.

Liam's expression conveys that he is severely injured, but then morphs into one of pity. "You really need to get laid."

Niall rolls his eyes even though Liam has an excellent point. It's been a few months since he's had a good fuck.

"That girl--Lily, I think--is really into you," Liam states.

And Lily's a very attractive woman, but Niall's got his eyes on an even bigger prize.

"I don't know, Liam," Niall shakes his head. "I'm not sure if I can do it."

"Maybe," Liam suggests, looking like he has already won, "if you go, Harry will too, and he'll stop moping around like a four year old that lost his favorite toy."

Niall sighs, but nods his head anyways. "Fine."

Liam puts his fist in the air in victory and mumbles a happy little "Yes!" before walking back towards the bathroom to take a shower. "You'll have a great time!"

"Doubt it," Niall mumbles to himself.

(~+~)

Harry finally decides he'll go with them to the frat party (Niall practically makes him because he doesn't want to go alone; that's what makes him cave) and they spend the first few hours sitting on the couch together drinking beer and watching everyone else become intoxicated.

Niall isn't sure why Liam asked him to come with him. As soon as they had gotten there, Amy came over, waved at Niall, then took Liam's hand and lead him up the stairs.

"Why're they having a party on a Monday?" Harry asks, breaking the silence.

"I'm pretty sure it's a 'last official day of summer' thing," Niall replies, remembering his frat house having one last year.

Harry tilts his head up as if to say oh, and takes another sip of his beer.

Niall's eyes eventually land on the Really Fit Bloke from his creative writing class. He's with a large group of people, so Niall isn't surprised when Harry points in their direction and says "There's Zayn."

Niall just nods, doesn't ask which one, and continues sipping on the drink in his cup.

If Niall ends up avoiding everyone except for Harry, no one knows but them.

(~+~)

Niall is bored out of his mind at his Wednesday lecture.

His professor gives the class a project that is meant to take up the entirety of the two hour time slot, but an hour passes and nearly everyone is done. His professor doesn't have anything else planned, so he decides to hand the standards for the next paper out early.

Most of the students decide to start planning their outlines because there's nothing else to do; Niall is one of these students. Really Fit Bloke is too, Niall notes absently. (Or maybe not-so-absently. But it is hidden in the privacy of his own mind. It's his god-given right to have thoughts that are entirely his own that no one will ever discover.)

Eventually, though, Niall migrates to his phone, popping an earbud in one of his ears and scrolling through his Instagram feed. (Don't judge him; there's nothing else to do.)

"Louis, you're a right twat, you know that, right?" A voice in front of him says and Niall immediately snaps his head up.

Niall is both confused and excited to discover that it is Really Fit Bloke's voice that he heard.

If Really Fit Bloke knew Louis, it would explain the reason why they had the same hoodie, but it's probably just some strange coincidence. The universe is always trying to get one over on Niall, so he wouldn't be surprised if this is the case.

But there are plenty of reasons to suspect that they know the same Louis.

The first reason is that Niall has yet to meet another Louis on campus, but he doesn't know absolutely everyone. Really Fit Bloke could have classes in which he hangs out with introverts more like himself that wouldn't be at many parties. It could be a Louis from a completely different area for all Niall knows.

The second reason is that the jumper Really Fit Bloke was wearing fit him perfectly, and Louis' identical jumper was slightly baggy. (Not that he payed much attention to either of their jumpers, but now that he thought about it...)

The third reason is that he called Louis a "right twat," and the Louis Niall knew is in fact a right twat. Louis has barely spoken to Harry since Sunday, so it's been four days now. That would make him a right twat for sure.

"Let's not forget," the boy continues, "that I did exactly the same thing to Perrie, and she broke up with me because of it. You better grow a pair and bloody tell him already."

The professor apparently sees no point in any of them being there anymore, so he dismisses them before Niall can hear anymore information that might aid him in his confusion.

And if he knew Louis, then why did he have his jumper? Or rather, why did Louis have his jumper?

Also, Perrie was most definitely a girl's name, so Niall had even less of a chance with this guy than before. Niall knew that he could be into both birds and blokes, but Niall was just Niall and he was not attractive enough for Really Fit Bloke regardless.

(~+~)

Niall and Liam bump into Louis at the pub later that day. Describing the look Niall gives him as menacing is an understatement.

(~+~)

Niall is quietly studying in his room with the lights off the next evening and the material is really starting to stick in his brain. You could probably hear a pin drop in his room from the kitchen because of how quiet it is. Every stroke of Niall's pen and every turn of every page sounds almost deafening.

So Niall jumps about forty feet in the air when he hears the front door slam shut. Followed by the slamming are the moans and the loud smacking noises.

And _fuck_ , Liam probably thinks Niall isn't there.

They are so ridiculously loud that he can hear Amy giggle when Liam throws her on his bed.

Thankfully, Liam shuts his door, but the sounds can still be heard through the thin walls, so Niall calls Harry.

"'Ello?" Harry answers, sounding suspiciously like he was moping around his flat before Niall had called him.

"Hey, mate," Niall replies. "I hate to bug you, but Liam and Amy think I'm not here and are having the most ridiculously loud sex ever. I was wonderin' if you wanted to maybe watch some movies--if you aren't busy, of course."

Harry chuckles. "Sure, I've got nothing else to do."

"Great," Niall says, "see you in a few!"

Niall hurriedly packs a bag with a change of clothes and the stuff he needs for his lecture the next day and opens his door. He winces as the moans get louder and quickly grabs a case of beer and a pint of ice cream from the refrigerator, rushing to get out of the door.

Niall sends Harry a quick text saying that he's at the door and takes the two flights of stairs up to Harry's flat. (Harry's flat is right above his and Liam's, he notices.)

By the time he gets to the door, Harry's standing in the doorway. His eyes light up like a child's on Christmas morning when he sees that Niall brought ice cream and eagerly lets him in.

"I picked out a few movies!" Harry says, gesturing to the pile of movies on his couch.

Niall isn't at all surprised to discover that just about all of them are romantic comedies or dramas.

Hidden among all the chick-flicks is "Transformers," so Niall immediately picks it up and hands it to Harry to put in his DVD player.

"Couldn't have guessed," Harry says with a smirk. "Megan Fox is in this one."

"So, speaking of really fit people, this really fit bloke in my creative writing class said something about how Louis was a twat and he did the same thing to his ex girlfriend," Niall says casually as he walks towards the kitchen to get a spoon. "I'm not sure if he knows the same Louis, but they have the same ju-"

And Niall is frozen in the doorway of the kitchen.

Really Fit Bloke is at the stove cooking.

"Alright, mum," he says as he stirs the sauce in the pan in front of him. "Okay. Love you too. Yes, mum! Goodbye."

And Niall's just standing there, fishmouthing like an idiot and staring at the boy in front of him.

He turns and sends Niall a small smile.

And he really should have seen it coming. The signs were there. The boy and Louis have the same jumper, Harry told Niall the boy was his roomate at the party, he hummed the song the person in the room above Niall played. And it's all a little overwhelming and Niall feels stupid for not connecting the dots sooner, before he made a complete and total tit of himself.

"What do the really fit bloke and Louis have that's the same?" Harry says, nearly bumping into Niall's dumbfounded frame.

Niall turns around with a facial expression that could only read "WHAT!!?" and Harry looks back and forth between Niall and the boy.

"Oh, Zayn, this is Niall," Harry says with a semi-sly smile on his face, appearing to make a connection if the expression on his face is anything to go by.

Niall turns back to Zayn, extending his hand out of habit.

Fuck Niall backwards with a chainsaw because that seems more comfortable than the situation he is currently in.

"Hey!" Zayn turns around to face Niall and takes Niall's hand in his own. "Nice to finally meet you, mate. I believe you're in my creative writing class?"


	4. Chapter 4

 "Nice to finally meet you, mate. I believe you're in my creative writing class?"

 _Yes_ , and Niall can't breathe at all

"Yeah, I believe so," Niall swallows thickly (and obviously.)  
  
Honestly, the Irish Luck thing must be true because Zayn doesn't look like he heard any of the things Niall said. Once Niall realizes there's no tension and Zayn doesn't seem freaked out, he relaxes a bit.  _A bit._  
  
"You hungry? I'm making chicken alfredo," Zayn asks politely, and Niall is always hungry but he shakes his head.   
  
Niall is really, really, extremely dumbfounded.  
  
Harry nudges Niall with his knee, making him jump.  
  
"I made plenty," Zayn adds, eyes moving to lock with Niall's. "I was expecting a guest but she canceled on me."  
  
 _And_   _Oh,_ Niall's heart sinks a little,  _of course. A girl._  
  
When Niall doesn't say anything, Harry speaks for him. "He'd love to. I believe he's staying the night."  
  
Zayn smiles, eyeing Niall with a look he can't quite determine. "Okay, cool."   
  
Niall's feet are still nailed to the floor, so Harry nudges him again. "Let's go start that movie."  
  
Niall turns to walk out of the kitchen and Harry fixes him with a pointed look. Niall nods to no one in particular then mumbles a quiet, "Right, yeah."  
  
Harry goes to press play on his DVD player and Niall just sits on the couch staring blankly ahead. There's something cold digging into into his side that feels suspiciously like a cold ice cream carton, but he doesn't really care.  
  
"Niall?" Harry says slowly--slower than usual--as he takes a seat beside Niall on the couch.  
  
"Hmmm?" Niall says way too loudly, snapping his head in Harry's direction. Niall has no concept of time at the current moment, so he's not sure how long they've been sitting there or how long his mind has been somewhere else.  
  
"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Harry says, brow furrowing. "You okay?"  
  
Niall nods slowly, as if he's still deciding whether he is or not; which, it wouldn't matter anyways because Harry doesn't have to know.  
  
Harry turns away with a disbelieving expression on his face, and Niall hopes he'll drop the subject.  
  
But it's  _Harry_  and he's way too concerned about Niall all the time--even though he looked like he was really upset when Niall first got there.   
  
Harry stands up and pauses the movie while it's still at the previews. "Balcony?" he asks but it isn't really a question because he slides the door open and steps out before Niall can form a response.  
  
Unwillingly, Niall stands up and follows him out, immediately walking to the railing so he can lean over it and get some fresh air. Fucking anxiety attacks.  
  
Niall hears Harry slide the door closed behind them, and then he's right beside Niall, looking at him questioningly.   
  
"What?" Niall defends harshly, and Harry isn't supposed to be hurt by his words but Niall is just an inconsiderate twatbag.  
  
Harry fixes him with an incredulous look, the hurt quickly melting away.  
  
Niall sighs and internally gives in with a string of curse words flowing through his head before deciding what he wants to say. "So, Zayn is the really fit bloke I was talking about."  
  
"I kind of figured," Harry says, chuckling, "but why do you look so spooked?"  
  
Niall just rubs his eyes. "I didn't want him to hear what I said. That would've been an awkward way to meet, don't ya think?"  
  
"I'm not sure he would've been able to connect the dots until he thought about it for a bit," Harry shrugs. "Is that all that's bothering you?"  
  
 _No_ , Niall thinks, _he is so fucking gorgeous and I don't know what to do; help_. "Yeah, it was just surprising to discover they were one in the same."   
  
Harry nods and turns out to look at the sky. It's really nice out and part of Niall wishes he had gone for a walk instead of going over to Harry's. It turns out he could have waited a few more weeks to finally meet Zayn.   
  
He mentally thanks the universe for making Zayn an antisocial introvert before there's a loud knocking on the sliding glass door.   
  
Guess who it is?   
  
It's Zayn.  
  
Niall winces slightly at the way his anxiety flares a bit when he sees him, but no one can see him because he's facing the street.  
  
"Just coming out for a smoke," Zayn says, "and the pasta is ready."  
  
Niall has to force himself to keep his eyes trained on a tree outside so he doesn't do something stupid.   
  
"So," Zayn says conversationally, coming up beside Niall, "you sit right behind me in creative writing."  
  
"Yep," Niall says a bit too tensely. "Do you mind if I nick one?" And Niall really doesn't smoke cigarettes but this is a very special occasion.  
  
"Nah," Zayn says, handing Niall a cigarette and his lighter. It has skulls on it and somehow Niall knows it's a reflection of who Zayn is just by looking at it, and he's not quite sure how that could be.  
  
"Sick lighter," Niall comments as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it. He takes a really slow drag partially out of habit--weed was a _thing_ for him--and partially because he needed to calm the fuck down.  
  
"Thanks," Zayn replies, and looks like he wants to say something but he decides not to, choosing to look away. He almost looks nervous which makes Niall think that it's his presence that is making Zayn act the way he's acting.

"Sorry, I'm not good at talking to people when I first meet them," Zayn says, sighing.

Of course. He's just nervous because he's antisocial. Niall needs to stop thinking before he misinterprets this entire thing and makes an even  _bigger_ tit of himself. 

On an exhale, Niall replies with, "You're telling me, mate."  
  
The cigarette is helping because Niall just said something a normal, functioning human would say, and he's kind of proud of himself.  
  
They just stand there in silence for a while and it's just then that he notices that Harry has gone in and he starts panicking again.   
  
Thankfully, the cigarette is almost down to the filter because he's been practically hyperventilating with it in his mouth, so he stubs it out in the ashtray sitting on the table and motions towards the door. "I'm gonna see what Harry's up to."  
  
Zayn nods. On his next exhale he says, "Probably secretively moping around."  
  
Niall lets out a loud laugh--why is everything he does so _loud_?--and says, "This shouldn't be funny. He's really torn apart about it."  
  
Zayn sighs, "Yeah, and Louis' being a dick."  
  
And Niall knows that Zayn knows something he doesn't, but bringing up the fact that he was listening to his conversation would be awkward and give Zayn the wrong impression about what kind of guy he is. Also, Niall is over-analyzing this situation. 

(~+~)

Harry is "taking a shower" and "not crying," so Niall and Zayn end up eating alone.

It's really not as awkward as Niall imaged it would be because they're eating on the couch and not directly facing each other at the table.

"This food is fucking awesome!" Niall comments as he shoves piles of pasta into his mouth.   
  
Zayn looks bashful rather than grossed out at Niall's disgusting eating habits when he looks over at him. "Thanks. That's really nice of you."

Niall leaves after dinner because Harry is upset and Liam and Amy  _must_ be done. Zayn walks him to the door saying that Niall and Liam should come over some time within the next week for drinks, and Niall wants to get out of the door as quickly as possible so Zayn doesn't see him blush and smile profusely.  _  
_

(~+~)

Niall is so nervous about his next creative writing class that he doesn't sleep the night before.

When he hears the person above him play music, its comforting for about two minutes until he realises that it's  _Zayn's_ music. If his heart thumps wildly. no one is there to hear it.

He looks like death when he gets ready for his class in the morning, but he has enough nervousness reserved to get him through the two hour class.

He has to give himself a pep talk before he walks into his class. He shakily walks to his seat, and as soon as he sits in it, Zayn turns around and shoots hims a blindingly white smile.

(~+~)

A few days later, Niall stays up studying all night for a test (in creative writing.)

When he reaches his seat, Zayn has his head laying on his desk.

"Hey, mate!" Zayn replies cheerily when he sees him even though he looks like he got the same amount of sleep Niall did.

"Hey," Niall replies as he tries to suppress a yawn. 

Zayn unlocks his phone to check the time before saying, "We've still got eight minutes until lecture starts. Do you want to maybe go grab some coffee?"

What the  _fuck_?

Did Zayn seriously just invite him to get coffee? As in  _together_.

Zayn is already walking towards the doors, so Niall follows. 

On the way out, Niall's phone vibrates with a message from one of his friends saying that he saw their professor barfing in the bushes, so it was safe to say that class was canceled. Niall wasn't sure if he was being truthful, but his professor usually shows up thirty minutes early to class anyways. 

Zayn lets out an excited "Yes!" and puts his fist into the air. "We get five more days to fucking study!"

"You still wanna get coffee?" Niall asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Why not?" Zayn replies.

(~+~)

"Oh my god!" Niall says as he wheezes between laughter. "No fucking way!"

"I'm one hundred percent serious," Zayn clarifies, laughing just as hard, "he has a purple thong in his boxer drawer."

Niall is close to rolling on the floor with laughter and the manager of the coffee shop looks just about ready to throw them out. 

"Fucking  _hell_ , mate," Niall is finally calming down, "that is so ridiculous."

"I know," Zayn replies, still smiling as he takes a sip of his coffee, "but Harry's ridiculous in all aspects of his life."

Niall takes a sip of his as well, smiling as he thinks about how Zayn insisted to buy it for him. "How is he doing by the way? We haven't really talked since last weekend."

Zayn shrugs. "I try not to bother him. He leaves me alone when I tell him to, and I don't really want to be rude or overstep my boundaries."

"What d'ya mean?" Niall asks, brows furrowing. "Aren't the two of you friends?"

"They  _never_ talk about me, do they?" Zayn replies, chuckling, and Niall assumes he's talking about Harry  _and_ Louis, but he's not too sure.

Niall shakes his head, frowning at how the liquid in his cup is almost gone. When the cup is empty, he and Zayn will go their separate ways; he _really_ doesn't want that to happen.

"Well," Zayn sighs, changing positions in the uncomfortable metal chair, "Louis and I went to grade school together. He was in the year above me. He and my sister, Doniya took drama together, so naturally we ended up meeting. We both had similar styles and stuff, and he and Doniya had practice nearly every day together--which I had to stay for since she was my ride home. We became friends easily. Louis didn't get into the same prestigious, snobby school my sister go into, and they were kind of planning on being together. Basically, Louis was devastated, we both applied here, Harry and Louis started dating, I needed a house, and here I am." 

"Ah," Niall replies. "That makes sense. So do you know what's stuck up Louis' arse, then?" 

Zayn sighs loudly, nodding. "I do, but, Louis doesn't want me to say anything to Harry. I mean, Harry's literally the  _best_ person and is providing me a roof over my head, but I can't go against Louis. We've known each other for  _ages_."

Niall hums understandingly.  _He_ doesn't want to oversep  _his_ boundaries, so he doesn't ask Zayn to tell him.

Zayn stands up to throw his cup away, and it's about  _that_ time. 

With a serge of courage, Niall grabs Zayns arm. "Why don't we study together?" 

"Sure," Zayn replies, digging his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Niall.

Niall blinks blearily before his mind catches up and he grabs the phone, putting his number in it as he hands his to Zayn. 

(~+~)

Zayn texts him two days later and Niall's heart jumps out of his chest when he sees it.

_i have no idea how long Harry's been in his room but there is a disgusting smell emanating from it and im pretty sure it is so foul it will kill him_

Niall chuckles, sending back,  **maybe u should check on him**

Zayn's reply is almost immediate. _But BOUNDARIES Niall_

**So ya want me t do it then?**

When Zayn doesn't text back, Niall smiles and rushes up the stairs

(~+~)

They both end up going to knock on Harry's door.   
  
"Haz?" Zayn asks. "Are you okay."  
  
"Yeah," Harry replies pitifully, and he doesn't sound even slightly okay.  
  
Zayn and Niall share a look.  
  
"Can you just leave me alone for a bit?" Harry says, trying to sound like he wasn't just crying. He tries and fails to hold back a sniffle.

"Can you at least come and take a shower?" Zayn asks.

Several moments later, Harry still hadn't formed a reply.

"Alright," Niall speaks up, "We're comin' in. 'Hope you're dressed." 

With that, he opens the door and is not prepared for what he finds.

"Jesus fucking  _christ_ ," he says loudly as his nose instinctively turns up. "That  _smell_."

"Bloody christ, Harry," Zayn adds, searching around the room frantically for the source. "Is that the breakfast I made for you a _week_  ago?"

Harry moans from somewhere under his pile of blankets.

Zayn rushes out and comes back a few moments later with a can of air freshener and a rubbish bin in his rubber-glove-clad hands. He works quickly, trashing the entire plate and rushing it out of the room. The smell lightens up as soon as its out of the room, and Zayn sprays air freshener to mask the remaining odor. 

There are other disgusting things in Harry's room--including a monstrous pile of dirty laundry--so Niall goes over to Harry as Zayn starts cleaning.

"Shower time," Niall says as he forces Harry's unwilling, yet weak, body into a standing position.

He's like a dead weight so Zayn comes over to help him. Together, they drag Harry into the bathroom.

"Are we going to have to do it for you, or can you handle it yourself?" Zayn asks softly.

Harry sighs but manages to stand up on his own. "I can do it." 

He sounds so weak Niall almost tears up. "You sure, bud?"

He nods, stepping out of his boxers and pulling the curtain closed. "But why do I have to shower?"

"We're going to get you out of this house," Zayn replies, looking over at Niall to make sure it's okay.

And yes,  _yes_ , it is so okay. 

 

(~+~)

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Shit! I'm so so so so incredibly sorry about taking this long to update!  
> (First, there was a family issue--and now I'm feeling very ill--but I'm updating anyways because it must be done!)

"You could've said you had a class, Harry," Niall says, arms folded across his chest.

"Well, I wasn't going to go, but I guess I haven't got a choice now," Harry says, a hint of hope in his voice.

Niall and Zayn shake their heads in sync. Harry sighs exasperatedly. 

"You have to go," Niall says sternly. 

"What's so important about  _plants_ anyways?" Harry tries, slinging himself on the couch and throwing an arm over his eyes.

"I'd say that the fact that you won't graduate if you fail the class is important enough," Niall says, shrugging nonchalantly, "wouldn't you, Zayn?" 

Zayn and Niall share a look.

Zayn nods. "You can't start jeopardizing your education because Louis is being a complete twat." 

Harry just sighs. "But-"

"No 'but's, Harry," Niall says, fixing harry with a serious look. "Your mum and Robin paid too much to get you here and you've worked way too hard. Why would you let  _anyone_ ruin this for you?"

Harry shrugs, and he can't be giving up like this. This version of Harry is a far cry from the committed Harry that Niall has always known.

"This is paving the road that leads to your dream job," Niall says, locking eyes with Harry. "This is _important_ , Harry. Your entire future is at stake. Your life from here on out  _depends_  on your college education. You can't just let this slip away from you while you wait for some idiot to pull his head out of his arse and apologize to you. You will have to continue your education with or without him, Harry." 

"This is  _my_ life, Niall," Harry says angrily. (It's not very convincing.)

Niall rolls his eyes. "Come on, Haz. We both know that if Gemma found out about this, she'd kick your arse all the way into next century. So are you going to go to class or are we going to call Gemma?" 

Harry furrows his brows.

It's silent for a while and Niall and Zayn just wait patiently. After all, Harry is an adult and he can make his own decisions. 

"Okay," Harry says finally, "but can you walk me to class? Lo-- _He_  used to. That's why I haven't gone." 

Niall nods quickly, fervently, before running to open up the front door. "You're gonna be late."

"How about we meet for dinner at that fancy organic place on campus?" Zayn suggests. "It's on me."

"You don't have to-" Harry starts, but Zayn cuts him off.

"You're right," he says and Niall wants to slap him until he finishes with, "I want to." 

(~+~) 

When Niall gets back to their flat to help Zayn do Harry's laundry--they're _amazing_ friends--it's entirely too quiet.

Niall would think no one was there if he didn't hear the same quiet music Zayn played every night coming from--what Niall could only assume is--Zayn's room.

Niall smiles privately, deciding not to bother him.

He goes to walk into Harry's room to get some of Harry's laundry together, but a strange noise stops him in front of Zayn's door.

He doesn't think that it's a part of the R&B track that's playing, so he presses his ear closer to the door, straining to hear over the music.

It's quiet for a while, so Niall's fairly convinced that his mind is playing tricks on him. He doesn't want to think that Zayn's  _moaning_ because he probably isn't and Niall's just hearing things.

But-

"Fuck," Zayn moans loudly and yep, yes, he is definitely moaning.

To Niall's surprise--to his _conscious mind's_ surprise--his dick twitches. 

He can't help but press closer into the door.

"Yeah," Zayn moans breathlessly. "Fuck!"

And it's so _obscene_. 

And of course Niall's admitted to himself that he is fairly interested in guys, that his interest is something he should investigate further, but he's never really  _been with_ a guy. And, honestly, you don't have to be gay--maybe a little open to the idea, but not gay--to be turned on by a guy masturbating. So he doesn't question himself.

Niall can hear Zayn's hand stroking his cock, and he really shouldn't be invading Zayn's privacy. But it's like his feet are nailed to the floor.

He starts imagining what Zayn looks like on the other side of the door, about how his eyelids are probably fluttering closed as he fucks up into his hand.

Niall glances down and he has a semi _already_. 

When Zayn's strokes get faster, Niall is itching to touch his dick, but he doesn't because he _can't_.

But then, Zayn starts shouting and cursing and then his breath hitches before he comes, Niall lets out a moan that sounds like it didn't even come out of his body--no pun intended.

He's so hard he could cry, but he can't wank in Harry and Zayn's  _hallway_ for christ's sake. 

He palms himself briefly, trying to relieve some of the discomfort, but that only makes the desire to touch his dick even stronger. 

Then, Zayn's music is shutting off and _what if he opens the door and **sees** him_? He'd think he was a total creep.

So, Niall does the only logically thing he can think of and runs into the bathroom.

He has to do  _something_ about the situation in his pants because he's so hard it hurts--and you can _tell_ \--so he does the only thing he can think of: he pulls his cock out and starts wanking in Harry and Zayn's hallway bathroom. 

And he's not going to last. 

It doesn't have very much to do with Zayn, honestly. He just hasn't been in the presence of moans in a while--apart from those that come from a laptop speaker. 

He's a hormonal teenage boy that hasn't even had a  _hand job_ since before he moved in with Liam--so it's been a month--and he hasn't had a good fuck since the beginning of summer.

"Niall?" Zayn asks from the other side of the door, but Niall's so close that he can't stop now.

"Yeah?" he manages, trying to calm his panting as he continues to stroke himself.

"Just wondering if you were in there," Zayn says. "I need to shower."

And then Niall's seeing Zayn in the shower  _naked_ and he's coming hard on the floor in front of him.

And it's so  _gross_. His mam taught him better than to come on someone else's _bathroom floor_ for christ's sake, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

He wipes the mess up quickly and promises--to whom he's not sure--that it'll never happen again

He really needs to get off with someone.

 _Soon_.

He tells himself he'll call Lily.

(~+~) 

After Zayn gets out of the shower, they go down to the basement where the washing machines and dryers are. They're giggling as they clumsily carry over-filled baskets of Harry's cothes, but when they actually put the clothes in the machine, Zayn's on his phone and it's silent.

Niall's phone is almost dead, so he isn't on it for long, wanting to conserve some power. He taps his fingers on the cold metal of the machine in front of him, before he finally glances over at Zayn. 

He's wearing a gray beanie now and Niall doesn't know where he got it from. He's been messing with his fringe and has somehow managed to get it to lie flat on his forehead. He's got his bottom lip between his middle and index finger, his other hand holding his phone. And Niall wants to fucking bite that fucking bottom lip of his, sink down to his knees, and watch as Zayn' phone hits the floor and shatters as his hands find purchase in Niall's hair.

"I feel so bad because I've never dated a guy before," Niall comments, desperate to talk about  _something_ , anything really to distract Niall from his own thoughts, running rampant now that he's heard Zayn tossing off. "I don't know how to help him."

Zayn looks up from his phone and stops playing with his fucking lip--thank  _god_. "I mean, it's not that different than dating a girl, I guess. The mental aspect is still the same, for the most part."

"Other than the fact that Harry's very attractive," Niall says, ignoring the fact that Zayn  _may_  have just said that he's dated guys before, "he's honestly the most adorable, all-or-nothing, caring guy I've ever met."

"I know," Zayn replies, eyes straying away from Niall's and to stare at the ground as he talks, "but Louis is so fucking stubborn."

(~+~)

They quickly get to work on Harry's room when they get back because it looks like a caveman has been living in it and still has a weird, unidentifiable smell.

Zayn puts some soft music on, the kind that he plays every night--and the kind he wanks to. It has a really slow beat that makes Niall want to grind on someone at a club, but he isn't at a club so he doesn't.

"Your music is always really good," Niall says, and oh my  _god._ What was he even  _thinking_. His brain just is _not_ connecting with his mouth and honestly? He knows he can't say anything to fix it, so he opts to turn beet red when he realizes his mistake. 

Zayn stops cleaning off Harry's desk and furrows his eyebrows.

"It's just," Niall struggles not to stutter because why is he so  _dumb_? "Well, I mean, my room is the room under yours. I-I kind of hear it every night. I hear it and it's really nice."

He's just said the same sentence  _twice_.

Niall can't see Zayn's face so he probably thinks Niall's a freak, and he's messed this up before it even started. But then Zayn's turning around to face him.

"I'm sorry," Zayn says apologetically, and it looks like he's blushing, "I won't-"

"No," Niall rushes, "I like it. Don't stop playing it."

"But can you even  _sleep_?" Zayn asks, "I don't want it to keep you up or anything."

"Yeah," and Niall thinks,  _Fuck it_ , "I mean, ever since I got kicked out of my fraternity, I've been having anxiety attacks, and when I heard your music, it calmed me down and--like, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have been able to sleep at all--"

"You've been having anxiety attacks?" Zayn asks, eyes solemn.

Niall nods slowly, and then says, "I don't know what to do because it's still a new thing--"

"I listen to music because  _I_  have anxiety attacks."

And Niall's shocked because he didn't know that.

Then, Niall's _really_ shocked because Zayn's  _hugging_  him, his grip tight. "They fucking  _suck_."

Niall just nods, hugging Zayn just as tight. It's so intense that Niall's vision goes blurry.

"Just know that you can come over any time you're feeling anxious, okay?" Zayn says. "You can talk to me whenever."

And then Zayn's letting go, looking at Niall until he nods and going back to Harry's desk. His back is turned to face Niall again.

Niall's shocked, still looking at Zayn's back.

Niall watches as he cleans the desk, unable to take his eyes away; he's still in shock.

He sucks in a breath when Zayn bends over to reach the back of the table, and his shirt is rising up so Niall can see the defined ridges of Zayn's back and the band of his boxers. And Niall would  _love_  to touch the plane of Zayn's back--to run his fingers along the warm expanse of tan skin. Wants to bear Zayn's throat by tugging on the dark strands of his hair, then smooth his hands all the way down his back and into his boxers to squeeze his bum.

He hasn't gotten off with someone in three months, and he has  _needs_. Zayn is just so hot and Niall is just so horny, and honestly this came out of nowhere. (Except for the fact that it _didn't_.)

They've only known each other for two weeks but they've hung out at least half of that time between coming over for beers and creative writing and that one study session that ended up being a FIFA session. And he's hard  _again_. That's  _twice_  in one day. 

_What the **shit**?_  Niall thinks and clears his throat because what the  _fuck_ , and now Zayn is turning around because he heard Niall and he's got to say  _something_. 

"You know, I absolutely cannot  _stand_  cleaning," Niall says, Harry's clothes are around him on all sides as he separates the light from the dark--most of them are dark--and his hands are shaking slightly. He tries to tell himself they're only shaking because he doesn't know what to say, but there's no point in lying to yourself. "I can't believe I am doing this for  _anyone_."

Zayn chuckles as he strips Harry's bedclothes off of his mattress to wash. Niall's already in the mindset, so he thinks briefly about Zayn striping  _his_  clothes off before he gets a grip. 

Niall is beginning to notice that Zayn is kind of always calm, even when he's laughing, and it's strange and kind of unsettling but in the best way possible. It's sort of like coming across a crystal clear lake that is completely stagnant and unmoving in the middle of the city; Niall can't help but wonder  _how_  and  _why_  but it's still so lovely and peaceful and unlike anything he's used to.

And what Niall said is true; he hates cleaning and wouldn't do it for anyone. But there are other factors at work. 

Harry is the most precious thing--even Niall realizes and acknowledges that--and he can't believe Louis just walked out on him. He didn't do anything to deserve what he was given and was  _completely_ ,  _absolutely_ heart broken about it. Basically, Niall cares for Harry and his well being a lot.

But  _Zayn_  is there  _with_  him. If cleaning time means  _Zayn_  time, then Niall is all for it, no matter the task at hand. Not only is Zayn insanely attractive, but he is also very intuitive and kind.

A part of Niall lets himself enjoy being in the presence of Zayn with literal pounds of Harry's laundry in a heap around him.

But most of Niall just feels guilty because he is  _using_  Harry's sadness. I mean, no one would ever use Liam unless they were jealous of him. But no one-- _no one_ \-- would  _ever_  use Harry. He is an actual cupcake princess from the magical land of candy canes and headbands. 

Somehow, Niall begins to feel as if he's in the same category as Louis. Then, he remembers that Zayn may not even be into guys and that Louis just downright  _left_  Harry, and he feels a lot better.

(~+~)

Niall and Zayn end up sitting beside each other at the restaurant. 

Neither of them say much.

Neither does Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update on: 07-21-14


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words cannot even be used to describe how sorry I am! SO many things have happened in the past month and I have learned so much! School started last week and that was the only reason why the update didn't come last Monday! I promise I will be consistent! I hope none of you are mad or over the story! Please don't be!  
> I love you all for sticking with me  
> xx

They decide to go out on Friday night. Everyone's going. Well, everyone as in Zayn, Niall, Harry, Liam, and Amy.  _Of course_. 

But, It's fine. It's supposed to be centered around making _Harry_  happy, not him. 

Like Niall has said before, Amy is just a friend.

Now, he kind of has Zayn, so it's sort of okay that both Liam  _and_  Amy have left him.

Ever since that first day when Niall and Liam went for a run on the trail near Amy's sorority, it's barely been Liam at home with Niall--except for when Liam's studying of course. 

It started out as a gradual thing. 

Now, Niall isn't too sure when he actually saw Liam last. (And Niall is over-exaggerating a tad because Liam still makes him tea in the mornings on the weekends and they chat about their classes, but he  _is_ distant. Sometimes, Niall and Liam will be watching TV and Liam just has this no-longer-in-this-world daydream face on, starring in some nonsensical direction. Sometimes Niall will try to explain something and Liam will just smile and nod whilst not-so-secretly texting. It wouldn't take a fucking rocket scientist to figure just _who_ he was texting.) 

But, Liam is there when Niall's getting ready to meet Zayn at the coffee shop to study--because the test the professor pushed back a few classes due to his illness is in two days and Niall is really unprepared.

Of fucking _course_ he's home right when Niall is in utmost distress and is unable to be casual about it.

"You're acting a little off today, mate," Liam says, quirking an eyebrow at him as he passes Niall's doorway en route to the refrigerator. 

Niall almost jolts visibly when he hears Liam's voice, too preoccupied with the strings on his hoodie to notice his presence. "Nah, I'm good."

"'Nah'?" Liam says, stopping back in Niall's doorway drinking from the carton of milk. "'I'm good'? Are you sure you're okay?"

Niall nods frantically as he checks and rechecks himself in the mirror.

Liam stands in his doorway with a look of confusion before realization dawns on him. "Are you going on a date?"

The smirk on Liam's face is so smug that Niall wants to bury himself in a hole.

Niall flushes, and he isn't sure why. "It's not a date--well, it's kind of a date. It's-It's a study date--but not like in a _romantic_ way or anything." 

"With who?" Liam asks, and Niall was hoping,  _praying_ that he wouldn't ask--he was even crossing his fingers in the pocketed confines of his sweatshirt--because he's just given himself away to the first person.

"Er," Niall stutters, flushing an even deeper shade of red and scratching the back of his neck, "Zayn--it's, it's Zayn."

Liam's eyebrows are so high up on his forehead that Niall thinks they'll jump off his face. " _Oh_."

And, never in Niall's entire existence has he ever heard so much conveyed in two letters. Especially when those two letters came from Liam of all people. Oblivious to the world to some extent, Liam is not the type to pry into other peoples' business. 

_Oh, it's **Zayn**._

_Oh, you **like** Zayn._

_Oh, **that's** why you're blushing._

_Oh, you are in some **deep** shit. I hope you know what you're doing._

Niall just kind of stares at his socked feet. He isn't arse over tits for Zayn or anything, but he thought he was much better at concealing his feelings. He didn't want anyone to find out, because it was just a lust-driven crush. That's all it is. 

Niall and Liam had A talk once--or a few times--when Niall was really confused about who or what he was. Society always makes being different unacceptable. Liam made sure to reassure Niall that he could just go with the flow. He is allowed to like whoever he likes. And right now, he happens to be drawn towards Zayn.

Zayn, the Venus fly trap to anyone with eyes and ears and a reproductive part on their bodies. Zayn, the lonely, concealed, leather-obsessing expanse of tan skin that had wormed his way under Niall's skin. Zayn, who he's known on a personal level for like two weeks or something crazy like that. He's not _counting_ or anything. _Christ_. (17 days.)

But Liam just nods a few times and walks back out of Niall's tiny room and into the kitchen.

Thank god for Liams. Niall wonders briefly if there are other Liams out there just like his. His Liam.

 _Better Liam finding out than Zayn_ , Niall thinks. Positivity is the key to success--or something like that. 

Niall looks at himself in the mirror. He's wearing black jeans--his _special_ _occasion_ black jeans because he's a college student and his fees are limited, also nothing's clean and he can't wear _trackies_ \--and a tight fitting sweatshirt with his university's name on it. (He thinks it has something to do with his frat, but he honestly doesn't care.) 

He knows it's not a date, but he kind of wishes it was. It's been a few days since the whole moaning incident happened. And Zayn is very, very,  _very_ attractive. So, yeah. Physically, the attraction is pretty  _there_. Niall just really wants to get in Zayn's pants. That's all.

And with that, he's stepping out into the chilly, early October air.

It's gotten cold in a matter of days, really. When he and Harry went to the end-of-summer frat party with Liam, they could still get by wearing a t-shirt, but that was three or so weeks ago. 

Now, though, it is quite different. Even under the tight, semi-fluffy material of his sweatshirt, he has gooseflesh--chillbumps, like from the cold, not because he's nervous or anything. Because he isn't. Not  _really_.

As Niall rounds the corner, he sees Zayn in the cafe window.

Niall groans, and he isn't quite sure what  _kind of_ groan it is, but it's a groan nonetheless.  _  
_

Zayn's wearing a black leather jacket over an even blacker shirt. He has a maroon scarf tied loosely around his neck and-- _fuck_ \--some glasses on. Niall's not sure if they have a prescription or if they're just clear ray bands but either  _way_. It's like Zayn did it on purpose.

Zayn will be the source of his demise. 

He forces his head away just in case Zayn looks out the window and catches him staring. 

(~+~)

"We had goldfish and they circled around and around in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes," Zayn says in lieu of a greeting.

Niall laughs, pulling out his chair and setting his coffee onto the table. "Did Harry force you to read that fucking book too?"

Zayn rolls his eyes and nods. "Don't get me wrong, I love brilliant and depressing poets as much as the next struggling English major, but there are _so_ _many_ of them...and Harry knows _all_ of them."

Niall laughs again. Niall laughs at everything anyone says really.

Zayn seems to be in rare form today. He's a little more aware--and less high--than he usually is. He has already started off the study session with more than a few words if that is anything to go by.

"Why'd you bring it up now, though?" Niall asks because, well, humans are curious by nature. He takes a sip of his coffee and rolls his eyes. "Did he text you a line from that one about the flowers?"

Zayn chokes on his coffee a little as he laughs.

Poetry texts from Harry were bi-weekly occurrences for a while. (Harry is the most ridiculous human being on planet earth.)

"No," Zayn's laughing as he talks, "he  _tweeted_ about it." 

"When?" Niall asks and he's already laughing.

"This morning," Zayn replies and Niall is dying.

Niall's close to tears because he's laughing so hard. This is the second time they've received death glares from their fellow classmates in this very coffee shop--although they're directed more at Niall than at Zayn--and Niall really doesn't give a fuck.

"Okay, okay," Niall wheezes, voice rough, "it really isn't that funny. He's really torn up about Lou." 

Zayn nods. He has a soul--unlike Niall--and only chuckled. "I wish there was something we could do. But, there's another reason why I brought it up."

"Why's that?" Niall asks, taking a sip of his coffee as he glances around him to make sure no one's still looking at the pair. 

"The paper that's due in English," Zayn starts, "which I'm assuming you take?"

Niall nods. "With the really pretentious, middle-aged hipster for a professor?"

Zayn nods back. "Yeah, we have to write a paper on an inspirational poet in the 1900's, and he's the perfect person to write it on. I'm sure Harry has a few others he can tell you all about."

 _Who knew I'd actually use any of the useless information about plants and 495 household remedies to cure sicknesses that Harry stores in his brain and forces into mine_ Niall thinks,smirking at his own thought behind the lip of his cup. "It'd be nice to have a bit of a break right now."

Niall kind of wants to address the fact that Zayn looks really good, looks  _extremely_ hot right now. He still has bags under his eyes, but his features are flawless. (Niall's convinced that Zayn could roll into a dumpster, live in it for two weeks, and still come out looking like sex on legs.)

He _wants_ to address it, he really  _really_ does, but it might come off too directly flirtatious--or rude, or annoying--and he doesn't want Zayn to run away and stop being his friend because he made things weird between them.

He doesn't know how to do this.

Whatever  _this_ is. 

"Yeah, I have very little free time right now," Zayn sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Friday's the only day I don't have classes or a test to study for."

"That reminds me," Niall says after a few moments, "where exactly is it that we're going Friday?"

 

"Well," Zayn shrugs, "I'm not too sure, to be honest. Maybe just something fun to get his mind off things, you know?"

Niall nods. The thing is, he  _doesn't_  know what it's like to be left but not broken up with, nor does he know how to make Harry feel better.

Niall's relationship knowledge isn't very extensive. He's been with a  _countless_ number of people, but "been with" is a very lose term. He's been in serious relationships with a few girls, but he's had far more random hook-ups. 

He isn't quite sure what happens when two guys are put together and one is an arse, leaving the other one so fragile and vulnerable. Harry's obviously the more vulnerable one in this situation--not to take away any of Harry's manliness. Niall's not sure what it's like to be in a committed relationship with a boy at _all now_ that he thinks about it. 

He's not sure how Harry feels because he's a  _guy_ in a relationship with another _guy_ \--and Niall definitely isn't stereotyping anyone or trying to be hetero-normative, but Harry's probably more like the girl in this particular situation. (Should he comfort him like he'd comfort a girl?) It's really and honestly all Niall can compare the situation to because he realizes Harry's--and his own--current situation is so foreign to him right now.

He doesn't know what it's like to be in a committed relationship with another guy and how that works. He's never once actually been with a guy in a committed way, although there are some pretty fucking hot ones out there--and Zayn is number one on his list. (It's almost like tunnel vision for Niall right now, but hell has to freeze over before he admits it.)

He also doesn't know how to tell when a guy likes him. His "gaydar," or whatever Harry calls it, isn't really that strong at all because he's never actually  _sought out_  a guy nor has he been sought after. He just sometimes ended up with a guy in his bed. (And he doesn't know if how they acted was an accurate representation of how boys that _like_ him would act because there was always alcohol present; those guys could be just as confused as he is about it, to be honest.) 

"What about the movies?" Niall says, and he's so deep in thought that his own response startles him.

"No, because every movie out there has some kind of romantic aspect," Zayn replies intelligently. "I'd suggest us going to a club, but Louis didn't actually break up with Harry. Not sure if hooking him up with someone would help the situation at all."

Niall didn't think about that because he was too busy thinking about whether or not Zayn liked him. 

Well, sort of.

"What about the arcade, then?" Niall asks, his eyebrows and shoulders raised in suggestion. "Harry likes that sort of stuff."

"That's perfect, actually!" Zayn exclaims--although it's calm.

Zayn is the epitome of calmness and concealed feelings. 

Niall feels a bit jealous of him because of it. Other than that, Niall feels accomplished because he has Zayn's approval and thinks Niall's idea is  _perfect_.

(~+~) 

 

 

 

 

"I have to be honest," Harry says as he looks around him, "A shady bar was  _not_  what I was expecting."

Niall just shrugs because Zayn was the one who brought them to-- _here_. 

Obviously, the arcade thing was Niall's idea, but he was thinking something more along the lines of one of those teenage-infested places without pool tables and intimidating guys in biker gear.

The dual row of games lined along the back wall was sort of pathetic. There were probably only a dozen machines there.

The new and polished sign out front that read:  _Finn's Club and Pub_  should have been enough to warn Niall that there would be more bar (and poker) than arcade--maybe even a few strippers.

It was an old, worn-down place. The building itself was nowhere near small, though. There were quite a few occupied pool tables in the middle of the room and the bar was ginormous.

"Hey, Vince, where's Finn at?" Zayn asks a man with a muscular build. 

"In the back," the man was easily six foot six, "I'll go get 'em for ya."

Harry looks over at Niall, and all Niall can do is shrug and look back at him. 

After a few moments, Harry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut, muttering something along the lines of, "Fuck my life." 

Niall places a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing. "He's just trying to help lessen the pain. We want you to get your mind off things."

Harry nods, saying that he understands and will try in the form of a surrendering facial expression.

A very rotund man comes back with Vince. Niall assumes that it's Finn, the owner. He looks around forty or so, as his hairline is receding.

"Zayn, nice to see you again," the man says, pulling Zayn in for a hug. "What can I do you for, mate?"

Zayn looks over at Harry. "I've got a friend here that is going over a rough spot, and we wanna give him a good night."

Finn also looks over at Harry, smiling sympathetically. "Looks like you need a few beers."

Harry sighs but nods nonetheless. 

Their first round of drinks are on the house, because Finn and Zayn are friends (?) Niall wants to ask Zayn how he became friends with a forty year old man, but he keeps his mouth shut.

That's when Niall's phone vibrates with a text. It's from Liam.

_is this the right place or r we lost??_

Niall chuckles out loud.

**yeh it looks shady as shit but if it says Finns out front then yes ur at the right place**

Liam greets Zayn and Harry but just nods at Niall. He and Amy take a seat beside Harry and steal his attention away.

Liam sends a wink Niall's way and he isn't sure why.

Niall looks over to the pathetic row of games in the back. There's just a pinball machine and a few other games that get boring too quickly. "So, not trying to be rude, mate, but these games are fuckin' pathetic."

Zayn chuckles, turning towards Niall and taking a slow sip of his beer. "Yeah, I know. We aren't playing games here."

Niall raises a confused eyebrow.

"Finn's brother Leo owns the arcade down the street," Zayn explains, "Leo tutored Louis so he won't fail his business class. Don't mention it to Harry, though. This is supposed to be a Louis-free excursion." 

Niall nods. "I wanted to ask you something."

Zayn perks up ever-so-slightly but Niall thinks it's just the beer starting to buzz in his veins.

"What does that tattoo on your arm mean?" Niall asks, because it's the only decent sized tattoo on Zayn's arm--that he's seen.

"The ' _Zap!_ ' one?" he asks, rolling his sleeve up. He looks up at Niall from under his lashes and  _jesus christ_. Zayn is Jesus Christ himself. 

"Er," Niall stutters before getting a grip. "Yeah. That one." 

"I really enjoy drawing," Zayn begins, looking down at his tattoo, "and I am really fascinated by comic book drawings: the shading in the black and white comics, the bold and bright colors that express so much. There is barely any need for words in them, and yet they depict an entire story. I absolutely  _love_ comic books. So, _'Zap!'_  somehow became my favorite of the very few action words used."

Niall isn't even looking at Zayn's tattoo, he's looking at his  _mouth_ , and dear mother fucking _god_ this is getting way too out of hand.

"That's really fucking cool," Niall says almost stiffly before chugging the rest of his beer.

And honestly, Niall doesn't understand why he's even trying with Zayn. 

_Even if_ there was some wild chance that Zayn was interested in the same sex, Niall would be very far down on Zayn's list of boys he wants to fuck, if he's even on the list at all. He needs to find someone else to get off with so he doesn't feel like he's about to explode every time he's around the most attractive person he's ever met in his entire life.

But if Niall prides himself in anything it's: 1. holding his pints like a champ and 2. concealing his true emotions with a laugh and a grin. 

Niall's quiet for too long, and Zayn ends up talking to Finn.

At some point, Niall ends up joining in on Harry, Liam, and Amy's conversation, but he's not really paying that much attention, just inserting a comment or two when needed.

"So, you ready?" Zayn asks, donning his leather jacket and scarf, successfully stealing away all of Niall's attention.

"Yeah," Niall says, getting up only after everyone else has and following Zayn across down the block to Leo's establishment.

It's only when they've gotten their passes and everything that Niall realizes he left his coat in the bar.

He runs back and of course it's not there and he's going to freeze when the temperature drops later on, but oh fucking well.

As he walks back to the arcade, he shivers, hopes Zayn will give him his leather jacket or something equally as cute, but he definitely doesn't get his hopes up.

(~+~) 

"Fuck," Niall exclaims as the ball once again rolls down into the "zero" point slot. "I am so bad at this game that  _I_  might even cry along with you."

Harry tries to look menacing, he really does. Harry's currently leaning against the basketball machine as he continuously refreshes his messages. It's a sad sight, honestly.

Niall and Zayn share a sympathetic look--they've been sharing a lot of those--and Niall grips Harry's shoulder with minimum force. 

"Please put your phone down," Niall says softly. "He's not worth all of this, babe." 

Harry stays silent for a while, hands frozen on his screen with a contemplative look on his face. "He text me back a few days ago."

Niall and Zayn are both surprised by that. Which, Niall  _should_  be but the fact that Zayn doesn't know about it is weird. Maybe he and Louis aren't as close as he had originally thought.

"And?" Niall asks carefully after a few moments.

"I asked if he wanted his joggers back because the twat left them," Harry thinks, "and then a while after that, I asked if he was eating a lot of junk food--because he's a shit cook and we all know it--and he said 'yes.' He hasn't said anything since. I don't think he's interested in me anymore. Maybe he found someone who lets him slack with his work and will give him road head."

This time, Harry looks slightly menacing. 

"Harry," Zayn sighs, "You  _know_  he didn't do that. I mean, you guys weren't in an extremely serious relationship, and were more friends than anything, but he wouldn't do that to you. Even if he's really as selfish as he's acting, _h_ _e_ needs you. Maybe just give him time, yeah?"

Harry rubs his temple and nods, says "I'm just gonna go play air hockey with Amy," and promptly leaves Niall and Zayn standing there at the skee ball machines.

"We'll go look for him if he isn't back in ten?" Niall suggests, because not only does Louis need his space, Harry does too. It just isn't healthy for Harry to skip two weeks worth of classes in favor of staying holed up in his room with rotten eggs on his desk that were poisoning the air.

Zayn nods, putting another credit into the machine and tossing the ball effortlessly into the hole marked "100."

Niall attempts to get his ball into the ten slot but the ball comes rolling back at him more than once. He gives up with a defeated sigh and sits on the edge of the machine, pretending that he's not watching Zayn be perfect. 

When Zayn finishes his game and collects the mass amount of tickets he's won, he finally looks over at Niall. "You still have credits left." 

Niall nods but doesn't get up, so Zayn decides to take Niall's wrist and lightly tug. 

And  _great_. The butterflies are doing fucking  _gymnastics_.

"Stand up," Zayn says with a light smile. "I'll help you."

And Niall's unresponsive brain says  _yes, yes, yes_. Somehow, he manages to stand up without jerking his wrist out of Zayn's grip because it sort of feels like Zayn is electrocuting him.

Niall doesn't really process that Zayn's words most likely mean that he'll being touching him  _more_  until Zayn's behind him. Heat is radiating off of Zayn's body and Niall can feel it through his thin tee shirt. Zayn smells like heaven and hell at the same time and Niall isn't sure which one he likes more.

"You should probably pick up a ball first," Zayn says, and Niall's an idiot.

Niall is a fucking idiot and the whole world knows it now.

He's blushing furiously as he bends over and picks up a ball, only turning darker when he straightens up and Zayn's chest is  _actually_ pressed against his back. They are almost  _touching_.

Zayn doesn't make an effort to move back, nor does Niall. He doesn't make a move forward either, obviously. 

Thank  _god_ Zayn can't see him. He probably is just sort of drunk and really isn't paying much attention.

He really hopes Harry and Liam can't see him either or he's going to get hell for it fore the rest of his life.

"So," Zayn says, his breath tickling the hairs at the nape of Niall's neck, "bring your arm back a little more."

Then, Zayn's fingers are on his elbow, pulling it back for him.

"Now get a bit lower." 

Niall complies, his arse brushing Zayn's upper thigh as he does so.

And,  _when did playing skee ball become such a serious activity?_

"Flick your wrist like  _this_ ," Zayn says, maneuvering Niall's wrist to show him the proper way of skee ball throwing. 

Can anyone else even  _see_  them? Like...

Niall's dick twitches briefly because it look's like Zayn's helping Niall  _get off_  for christ's sake. 

"Now, go for it."

And Niall wants to just be like "okay," and pull his dick out right there.

Niall also wants to be rich, famous, and secularly known. (Neither will happen.)

The ball ends up only landing in the spot marked "20" but he lets out a whoop of victory anyways. 

Zayn rewards him with a toothy grin and a fist-bump as he retrieves the one ticket he earns.

(~+~)

Harry, Zayn, and Niall ride back to the flat together in Zayn's car. The heat in the car is very limited but he has Zayn's hoodie on and it smells like him, and Niall might not breathe until he hits his pillow, Zayn's absolutely delicious scent--not just his cologne but his _pheromones_ \--filling his lungs until he falls asleep.

Niall is fucked.

Fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Update will be on (09-01-14)


	7. Chapter 7

The following Monday marks the beginning of mid-semester exams.

And the test on creative writing techniques and authors is one of those tests. It's the test that Niall and Zayn have been studying all semester for--the one that was postponed a week.

Niall would normally hit snooze until the least possible second, roll out of bed, put on some pants, eat a stick of gum, and run to class--especially on a test day.

But, Zayn exists so...

He gets up  _early_. 

He even _color coordinates_ the colors in his snapback with his shirt. He wears the new pair of jeans his mum gave him when he went down for his birthday a few weeks ago, (before he met Zayn), and they're expensive because they're his  _exact_ size.

And, honestly. It's for a  _test_.

His mother raised him to hold onto hope with as much strength as he can muster, and maybe this isn't necessarily the kind of situation he should reserve all of his hope for--however the test _is--_ but he needs all the hope and faith and as many gods as he can pray to in order to woo Zayn. ( _Woo_. It is the term Niall that Niall has selected and it may or may not have something to do with Liam.) 

Not only is Zayn as unpredictable as the flipping of a coin--which actually can be predicted but _whatever_ ;he's also so, so  _hot_. 

What even _is_ Zayn? Zayn being very introverted makes him impossible to read. Every gesture he makes can mean an endless amount of things; every flutter of every eyelash could be for a different reason. And it's so ridiculous. Niall should just give up now and let the powers that be win.

He's thought about giving up more than once a day. Niall has thought about it _many_ times, and it's not making it any easier for him.

Because he's right back to square one all over again.

Zayn is going to meet him in the car park so they can walk together, so if he spends extra time looking at himself in the mirror who can blame him, really? (This is square one.)

And of course Zayn's standing there up against the fading brick, hair flat and wet and fluffy, wearing a dark blue and black plaid flannel and smoking a cigarette as if he's king of the fucking universe. (Honestly, he _could_ be.)  

If Zayn doesn't kill him by actually showing interest in him, Zayn's looks are going to cause an siezure from the way he makes Niall's brain work over time--he doesn't have epilepsy, but if he _did_ Zayn would be a definite issue. 

"You ready?" Zayn asks behind a sleepy smile.

"As I'll ever be," Niall replies with a sigh, and he isn't even sighing because of the test but Zayn can think he is; that is perfectly fine. 

 

(~+~)

 

The test was of moderate difficulty, and Niall is almost positive that he got beyond a grade sufficient enough to pass.

He actually falls asleep a few times in the two hour period and almost causes a minor earthquake with the tapping of his foot.  

And  _somehow_ _on god's_   _green earth_ he ended up on Zayn's bed sharing a spliff with him at 10 A.M.

Harry's gone--not that it matters--and they're the only ones in the flat. (Which it doesnt _really_ matter.)

The atmosphere is tranquil, Zayn's steady and rhythmic R&B coming out of the speakers with the bass turned way up.

He can feel the bass thrumming from his head to the tips of his toes and the only thing that could perfect this moment further would be if Zayn was grinding down on him, but.

"Do you ever think about all of the decisions you've made," Zayn says, pausing to take a drag from the spliff before passing it over to Niall, "and, like, how just one of those choices that you made--or didn't make--could have impacted your life on such a grande scale. And, it's like, you could be wrapped up in a life opposite the one you're living now."

"Yeah," Niall says, blowing the smoke out in rings--what? He was in a frat for two years of college--and taking another drag.

And, strangely enough, this very situation reminds him of a frat party that took place about a year ago. He kind of cringes at the memory, but he lets himself think about it anyways.

 

(~+~)

 

_Niall was new to his frat and he was young, but everyone loved him and he quickly became a favorite amongst everyone.  
_

_Whether it was his uncanny ability to light up the room as soon as he stepped foot in it, how he was a natural at beer pong, or the fact that he was fucking good at flirting; there's no way to be sure._

_But all the girls always wanted to be near him. The majority of them just thought he was this cute freshman with bright, honest eyes that they could trust--that was until he finally got a girl alone and there was alcohol involved and some loud sex at a party._

_That incident--followed by dying and styling his hair differently and getting his braces off--completely changed the way that everyone viewed him._

_One night, though, he was at the New Year's Eve party one of the frats on campus was throwing._

_It was the party of the year, and the particular frat that was hosting it went all out. (The frats on campus rotated back and forth, and the goal every year was to upstage the previous frat's party. Niall thinks they did, even though he hasn't been to any of the others before this because he was still a minor.) There were streamers and hand-made snowflakes hanging down from the ceiling and bright, white Christmas lights adorning the walls. There was even a DJ, and some of the pledges from surrounding sororities were dressed up in skimpy white dresses and handing out various holiday-themed drinks._

_Everyone was greeting him, and he felt like a celebrity of sorts. _He had just gotten out of the grueling pledging period before Christmas hols and he was feeling pretty bold.__

__He and a few girls danced a bit to very grind-able music, but he wasn't particularly interested in any of them, so he ventured down into the basement._ _

_And so there was this guy down there._

_Niall recognized him from his government class. He was hot, older, a drama major, openly gay; you know, like most of them are._

_Niall was drunk out of his mind. (It was New Years eve, so everyone was.)_

_The boy was called Thomas and before he knew it, they were making out in a secluded corner as the clock struck twelve._

_Niall honestly barely remembered--and literally_  everyone _was drunk out of their minds, so no one else noticed either--_ _and so he only briefly thought about what it meant._

_He decided that it meant nothing and it happened just because he was there, Thomas was gay, and it was New Years._

_He kind of ignored it for a while and it was easy._

_And then, Niall had gotten particularly drunk, high, and horny--the fucking 'you are fucked' trinity-- at the Valentine's party and he let Thomas give him a blowjob and tell him how cute he was. It was a blow job, and they're always nice as long as whoever's giving them is good at it. Drama guy was pretty fucking good if Niall says so himself. Rougher, too._

_It was nice._

_Thomas took care of himself._

_Then, at the next frat party, his frat was hosting, things went down._

_There was another guy, different this time, who was a senior no doubt, with dark, dark stubble and big, big hands._

_The guy--what was his name again? Michael? Marcus?--had been extremely close, touching his arms and lower back, and once again Niall was drunk out of his mind._

_When the guy started leaning in slowly to kiss him, looking into his eyes to ask if it was okay, Niall grabbed his wrist loosely and dragged him into his room._

_He received another blowjob, but this time the guy teased Niall's entrance and he practically yelped with the unexpected pleasure._

__Niall gave him a messy hand job after that lasted no longer than five minutes, and that was that._ _

(~+~)

 

And this is all relevant to his current situation, of course, because he wouldn't even be in this situation. He would've met Zayn, and sure, maybe even thought he was hot for a guy, but he would not even  _think_  to let his mind run this rampant. His imagination is practically that of a five year old at this point. He's obviously not thinking the same things as a five year old, but his mind is  _always_ racing. Zayn's  _so_ hot. Even  _Liam_ picks up on it.  _Liam_. 

And it's just kind of one of those things where he realizes all of a sudden, when he's stoned and his mind is very open, that this is the first time he has thought of a guy like this apart from when alcohol is in his system.

It's more than a little scary, to be honest, and Niall has no idea how to process that now with the smoke curling into his lungs and numbing his heartbeat. 

"Are you referring to all your tattoos then?" Niall says and he has absolutely no idea how much time has eclipsed since Zayn had originally asked the question.

Zayn chuckles softly, and when Niall looks over at him he's blinking slowly like he's about to fall asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The story will be updated every Monday and/or Thursday from now on! (Next update will be on: 07-24-14)


End file.
